Finance Desk

On the Trump administration’s decision to work with Delcy Rodríguez

Forcing Maduro out: “We made multiple attempts to get Maduro to leave voluntarily and to avoid all of this. Because we understood that he was an impediment to progress. You couldn’t make a deal with this guy.”

The first goal wasn’t a rushed attempt at a democratic transition or vote: “You can have elections all day. But if the opposition has no access to the media, if opposition candidates are routinely dismissed and unable to be on the ballot because of the government, then those aren’t free and fair elections. That’s the endstate that we want. Free, fair, prosperous and friendly Venezuela. We are not gonna get there in three weeks. It’s going to take some time. So objective number one was stability.”

Not a quick, straightforward process: “For the first time in over a decade and a half there’s a real possibility of transformation. And a lot of it will depend on them. There are many people living in Florida and across the country who would like to go back and be a part of Venezuela’s economic life. Many of them are eager to do so. And Venezuela is going to need them to go back and rebuild the businesses that were taken (…) This is not a frozen dinner that you put  in a microwave and two and a half minutes later it comes out ready to eat. These are complex things. We’ve seen this play out. I use the example of Paraguay and Spain, there are others. When there’s a transition from autocracy to democracy, it’s not linear.”

Rubio didn’t want to get involved in the issue of an investigation into Delcy by US prosecutors. She wasn’t arrested because she hasn’t been indicted like Maduro, and they work with her because those who control the weapons and the institutions are regime figures. The US managed to avoid war, millions of people were prevented from fleeing to Colombia, by establishing communication with key regime actors.

To critics of US policy in Venezuela, Rubio put it this way: “You told us you didn’t want any more regime change, and now you criticize us for not changing the regime.” 

Rubio said he doesn’t want chavismo to entrench. According to him, the US goal is not to leave  “people from this system” in power (who he claims not to trust), but right now it’s necessary to preserve a level of respect and communication maintained so far (since the January 3 military intervention).

On Venezuelan oil

The Secretary of State insisted that the chavista regime was sustained by corruption, something that is no longer sustainable, and that oil money “will not go to the drug cartels.” 

Funds from the oil sales will go into a Venezuela-owned account in Qatar that the US will be able to supervise:  “They needed money quickly to fund the police officers, the sanitation workers, the daily operations of government. So we’ve been able to create a short-term mechanism. This is not gonna be the permanent mechanism, but this is a mechanism in which the needs of the Venezuelan people can be met through a process that we’ve created where they will submit every month a budget of what needs to be funded. We will provide for them at the front end what that money cannot be used for. And they’ve been very cooperative in this regard. In fact, they have pledged to use a substantial amount of those funds to purchase medicine and equipment directly from the US.”

Rubio also said another $300 million might come in, but Delcy & Co. first must allow an audit of the initial funds to ensure they are being used appropriately.

On the other hand, China can buy Venezuelan oil, but at market price. No Maduro-era discounts set as a result of US sanctions. The Secretary of State said the US wants to lift said sanctions to boost economic activity, but he doesn’t expect the recovery to involve US spending.

Rubio celebrated the amendment process of the Hydrocarbons Law, which basically eliminates many of the restrictions on foreign investment in the oil industry. It doesn’t go far enough to attract more investment, but it’s a big step compared to where things were three weeks ago.”

He suggested that companies would invest in Venezuela knowing their money is safe and their assets wouldn’t be taken away. The goal is to create the conditions for a normal, stable and transparent business environment in Venezuela. Their heavy crude isn’t unique, Canada has it too: “It’s not irreplaceable. But we understand that that is the lifeline and their natural resources will allow Venezuela to be stable and prosperous moving forward. what we hope to do is transition to a mechanism that allows that to be sold in a normal way, a normal oil industry, not one dominated by cronies, graft and corruption.”

Threats to the Rodríguez regime

Rubio expressed the regime’s performance is being assessed based on actions, not discourse. Stopping Venezuela from being the backyard of China, Russia and Iran would be a huge step.

“For the first time in 20 years, we are having serious conversations about eroding and eliminating the Iranian presence, the Chinese influence, the Russian presence as well. In fact, I will tell you that there are many elements there in Venezuela that welcome a return to establishing relations with the United States on multiple fronts,” Rubio said.

He acknowledged that political prisoners are being released, though not at the pace he desires, and that US officials would be mindful of how opposition leaders coming out from hiding would be treated (Delsa Solórzano being the last example).

Rubio said the US is generally pleased with how things have evolved in the past three weeks, but “we’ll let them know” if that changes. He does not anticipate any further military action in Venezuela in the short term. He claimed the use of force would depend on the stabilization goals being met, not on helping those goals.

“The only military presence you will see in Venezuela is our Marine guards at an embassy. That is our goal, that is our expectation, and that is what everything that outlines towards. That said, if an Iranian drone factory pops up and threatens our forces in the region, the president retains the option to eliminate that threat.”

On the future

Rubio was reluctant to provide a precise timeline for the current arrangement between Venezuelan authorities and the US. The Trump administration wants to see rapid progress, he suggested. And in five months, the situation must be different to what they currently see.

In the long term, the US wants Venezuela to have a democratically-elected government. But that stage wouldn’t be achieved in a matter of weeks (see quote in sub-section one). Rubio said he wants María Corina to be part of the transition and to be able to participate in an election at some point. He acknowledged they’ve known each other for the past 12 years, and both him and Trump respect the opposition leader.

Finally, Rubio explicitly labeled the Venezuelan opposition as diverse. He said that both opposition figures like Maria Corina who never supported chavismo and chavistas that disliked Maduro (which he called people “committed to chavista ideology) should have representation, and that internal reconciliation would allow those sectors to participate in national politics. The ultimate goal is legitimate democratic elections, and whatever happens, Rubio hopes the next Venezuelan leaders will have cordial relations with the US.

A digital nomad visa is a document or program that gives someone the legal right to work remotely while residing away from their country of permanent residence. A digital nomad is someone who lives a nomadic lifestyle and uses technology to work remotely from outside their home country.

Although only some countries have visas targeted at digital nomads, many offer visas that are liberal enough to allow nomads to work remotely without becoming a resident. Forty regions offer remote working visas, including Anguilla, The Bahamas, Croatia, Spain, Norway, and Colombia, among others.

What Is a Digital Nomad Visa?

A digital nomad visa is a type of visa that allows digital nomads to live and work in a foreign country for longer than a normal tourist visa. They may also offer favorable tax schemes for nomads that stay long enough to need to declare a new country as their tax residence.

Although many digital nomads take advantage of lenient temporary residence visas, only a few countries have debuted visas specifically for digital nomads or remote workers. Other countries simply offer visas that work with the frequent moves that many remote workers prefer. And still other countries have visas that cater to freelancers or entrepreneurs but aren’t open to remote workers employed by a foreign company in a full time capacity.

Both workers and students can use digital nomad visas, although the costs and requirements may differ. For example, the Work From Bermuda Certificate requires scholars to provide proof of enrollment in an undergraduate, graduate, doctoral, or research program with their application. Remote workers or self-employed applicants aren’t required to be enrolled in school.

Some countries allow employers to apply for a digital nomad visa for their company. Dominica’s program charges $800 (USD) plus an additional $500 (USD) for each employee for a business of four or more people.

Who Offers Digital Nomad Visas?

As of 2025, over 50 regions offer programs for temporary remote workers. Besides the regions highlighted below, the following countries also accommodate the digital nomad: Abu Dhabi, Albania, Argentina, Greece, Hungary, Italy, Latvia, Romania, Spain, Belize, El Salvador, Panama, Brazil, Colombia, Ecuador, Uruguay, Dubai, Bali, Japan, Malaysia, South Korea, Grenada, Namibia, Andorra, South Africa, Sri Lanka, Taiwan, and the Philippines.

Other countries offer flexible visas that may attract digital nomads, but they’re not strictly remote a work visa. Some are temporary residence visas, while others offer lenient tourist visas that many use as a remote work visa. Countries that offer remote or freelance friendly visas include Croatia, Armenia, Finland, Georgia, Germany, the Netherlands, Norway, Canada, Mexico, Thailand, Serbia, Aruba, Montenegro.

North Macedonia, Goa, and Peru have each either discussed or announced digital nomad visas, but they aren’t available at the time of writing.

Antigua & Barbuda

Nomad Digital Residence is a long-stay program offered by both islands for remote workers. The visa is good for two years and costs $1,500 (USD) per individual, while couples and families of three or more must pay $2,000 (USD) and $3,000 (USD), respectively.

Applicants must fill out the application and submit up to 11 documents, including proof of expected income of at least $50,000 (USD) for each year of the program.

The Bahamas

The Bahamas Extended Access Travel Stay allows digital nomads to work remotely for one year from any of 16 islands. An application requires a $25 (USD) fee, a valid passport data page, a medical insurance card, and proof of employment.

The application typically takes just five days to process. Approved applicants must pay $1,000 (USD) to receive their Work Remotely permit. You must add $500 (USD) for each dependent if they plan to join you.

Barbados

The Barbados Welcome Stamp established a visa that allows visitors to work remotely for up to one year. The application fee is $2,000 (USD) for individuals and $3,000 (USD) for families.

The application must be accompanied by two identical 50 x 50 mm photographs (that meet the specific visa photo requirements of the Barbadian government), the biodata page of a passport, and proof of relationship of dependents (if applicable).

Applicants must also prove that they will earn $50,000 (USD) during their 12-month stay.

Bermuda

The Work From Bermuda Certificate permits digital nomads to work remotely for 12 months. The $263 (USD) application fee must be accompanied by health insurance and proof of employment. Applicants cannot have a criminal record.

Although there isn’t a minimum requirement, applicants must have enough income to support themselves for the full year. Family members will also need to pay a fee and apply separately, but all applications must be submitted on the same day. The turnaround time is approximately five business days.

Cabo Verde

The Cabo Verde Remote Working Program is available to remote workers originating from Europe, North America, the Community of Portuguese Speaking Countries, and the Economic Community of West African States.

Applicants must:

• Have a minimum bank account balance of €1,500 for individuals and €2,700 for families for at least the last six months
• Submit five total documents with the application, including a passport and health insurance
• Provide 10 total documents to border authorities in person after arriving at one of the 10 islands, though there is some overlap between the two sets of documents

Processing time can take roughly two weeks. The visa is valid for six months and can be renewed for another 12 months.

Costa Rica

This Central American country’s digital nomad visa, also known as Stay (Estancia) for Remote Workers and Service Provider, offers a one-year remote work opportunity.

Prospective visitors are required to have a monthly income of $3,000 (USD). That amount increases to $5,000 (USD) if there are dependents involved.

Other requirements include, but are not limited to, the payment of a $100 (USD) application fee, bank statements proving income, proof of medical insurance, and a valid passport. The permit can be renewed as long as all requirements are still being met.

Curaçao

This Dutch Caribbean island offers the @HOME in Curaçao program. Available to remote workers for six months, residency can be extended for an additional six-month period. American or Dutch citizens don’t need a visa—they’re already permitted to stay in Curaçao for up to six months as a tourist.

Outside of a $294 total for fees, the application also requires a copy of a passport photo, proof of solvency, and proof of health insurance. Processing time is approximately two weeks.

All applicants must file individually. Families may also apply for the program, but they must do so under the main applicant.

Czech Republic

The Czech Republic’s freelancer visa, Zivno, is a bit trickier to acquire than most on this list. This program requires a variable fee, in addition to proof of minimum income equal to 1.5 the gross average annual salary listed by the Ministry of Labor and Social Affairs. (This amount changes annually.) You must also have documents like a passport, proof of accommodation, criminal record, etc.

The Zivno is only open to residents of a few countries: Australia, Japan, Canada, the Republic of Korea, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, the United States, Singapore, and Israel. The visa lasts for one year but holders may apply for an extension before the initial visa expires.

Dominica

Dominica, also known as the Nature Island of the Caribbean, provides an 18-month Work In Nature Extended Stay Visa for digital nomads. Applicants must present proof of expected income of $50,000 for the next 12 months. There is also a $100 application fee and either $800 single or $1,200 family visa fee—all in USD.

Several other documents, including the biodata page of a passport, a bank reference letter, and proof of health insurance, must also be submitted alongside the application. Approval letters are often sent within 14–28 days.

Estonia

On Aug. 1, 2020, Estonia launched an official Digital Nomad Visa for remote workers to remain in the country for up to one year. Applicants need proof of a minimum of €4,500 in gross income and pay a state fee of €90 or €120 for a Type C (short stay) or Type D (long stay) visa, respectively.

Additional requirements include having a valid travel document and health insurance. They must also pass a background check. Applications must be submitted in person at the nearest Estonian Embassy or Consulate, and the processing time can take up to 30 days.

Iceland

The long-term visa for remote workers program is available to digital nomads from any country that doesn’t require a visa to travel to Iceland and isn’t available to any that are part of the EU, the European Economic Area, and/or the European Free Trade Association.

The visa can be issued for up to 180 days, so long as applicants apply and are accepted before coming. If you apply after arrival, the visa is only valid for 90 days. You must prove a monthly income equivalent to 1 million króna (ISK) for singles or 1.3 million ISK for couples. Each applicant must submit a separate application and pay a 40,000 ISK processing fee separately for each one.

Applications will also require a passport photo (no older than six months), copies of a passport, proof of health insurance, proof of purpose of stay in Iceland, and potentially a criminal record check.

All applications must be submitted in person or via mail to the Directorate of Immigration at Dalvegur 18, 201 Kópavogur.

Malta

The Nomad Residence Permit allows digital nomads to work remotely within the archipelago for one year. It can be renewed at the discretion of Residency Malta, as long as the applicant still meets the set eligibility criteria.

Applicants must meet a gross yearly income threshold of €42,000, hold a valid travel document, have health insurance, acquire a valid property rental or purchase agreement, and pass a background check.

Once the application and all required documents have been submitted via email, instructions will be sent to pay a €300 administrative fee for each applicant, including any family members included on the application.

Mauritius

The Premium Travel Visa offers one year of remote working abroad with the potential for renewal. The best part? The Premium Travel Visa is 100% free—no fees of any kind.

Prospective travelers must submit multiple documents with their online application, such as a valid passport, proof of travel and health insurance, and a copy of their marriage certificate (if applicable).

Applications are processed within 48 hours after they’re submitted.

Montserrat

The Montserrat Remote Work Stamp is valid for one year of remote working. It requires proof of an annual income of $70,000 (USD), and there’s a $500 (USD) fee for single travelers or a $750 (USD) fee for families of up to three dependents (plus a $250 (USD) fee for any additional dependents).

Proof of valid health insurance, a copy of passport biographical data, a passport-size photo, a police record, and proof of employment or a business incorporation certificate are also required.

Processing takes seven working days after the application is submitted.

Portugal

Portugal offers a D8 digital nomad visa that is valid for two years. It can be renewed for up to five years. The national visa costs €110, while the residency visa may come with additional charges.

In addition to the application form, prospective residents must provide a valid passport, two passport-size photos, valid travel insurance, proof of residence (if applicable), proof of sufficient income, proof of owning a business entity (or a contract for providing services), and a criminal record.

Income requirements for the D8 are, as of 2026, €3,480 per month.

Seychelles

The Seychelles Workcation program enables digital nomads to work remotely from any of the 115 islands that comprise the archipelago for as little as one month or as much as one year.

There is a €45 fee, and prospective travelers must also provide a valid passport, proof of being an employee/business owner, proof of income (exact amount unspecified), and a valid medical and travel insurance policy with their application.

Family members can also join an applicant as ordinary visitors, so long as they meet all requirements and submit birth and/or marriage certificates, whichever is appropriate.

Advantages and Disadvantages of Digital Nomad Visas

It’s crucial for anyone considering working abroad to review and follow whatever is requested by their temporary residence of choice. While there are certain benefits to working on a digital nomad visa, there are also some downsides to keep in mind.

Advantages

The obvious benefit of these programs is that you can enjoy a long vacation while maintaining a stable source of income without putting your career on hold. Most regions that offer digital nomad visas already have the infrastructure necessary to support remote workers, such as strong wifi as a selling feature.

Disadvantages

Being a digital nomad requires a job that’s remote and flexible. This is especially important when it comes to logging in hours when there’s a time difference. Although these kinds of jobs have become more common in the wake of the pandemic, this may be a guaranteed deal-breaker for some companies and workers.

Visas can be costly, and if the application for your next destination is rejected, you could be left scrambling to find a new place to live before you’re forced to leave when your current visa expires. Moving around can also make it harder to form long-lasting relationships, while the constant distance can also put a strain on existing ones.

Unless a country offers you permanent residency when your temporary visa expires, there’s little point in putting down roots where you won’t be living after a year or so. Although this lack of ties can be seen as a plus to those who value their independence, anyone thinking about a lengthy period abroad should carefully consider how isolating it might be.

Another consideration is your tax residency. Most countries will consider you a tax resident if you stay more than 183 days. Consider how that may impact your U.S. taxes and eat into your income. Unless you qualify for a specialized digital nomad tax scheme, you may find yourself paying higher taxes than you would back home.

Digital Nomads vs. Remote Workers

Although the term remote worker has become increasingly common, it isn’t perfectly synonymous with being a digital nomad. All digital nomads are, by necessity, remote workers. Yet the latter term can also apply to those who simply operate from their permanent residence instead of from an office. Laws differ, but entering a country as a tourist generally doesn’t permit the traveler to work while living there.

Working remotely (in your home country) wasn’t as popular in decades past as it is today. That’s because many employers felt that their employees wouldn’t be productive if they worked away from the office. Those who needed to work from home were given special permission for certain reasons, such as family or a lack of workplace accommodations.

Telecommuting has since become very commonplace, boosted by the pandemic. Many companies now believe that working from home can increase productivity. Some research indicates that people who work from home end up working 1.4 days more than in-office workers.

The Bottom Line

The number of areas of the world that offer digital nomad visas is growing. Such travel programs can provide cultural and extended stay benefits to travelers who long to live and work in a country they’ve perhaps only dreamed about or visited briefly. Each country has specific requirements for its digital nomad visa, so be sure to do all the necessary research before you begin the application process.

In recent days, the Venezuelan public debate has been filled with comparisons between what has transpired after the January 3 US military operation and the era of Juan Vicente Gómez (1908–1935), the Andean strongman who ruled for 27 years. The immediate flashpoint is the National Assembly’s proposed reform of the 2006 Hydrocarbons Law, designed to reopen the oil industry to private capital. 

Displaced chavistas such as Andrés Izarra argue the reform is unconstitutional and evokes the “servile” terms under which Gómez granted oil concessions to foreign firms in the 1920s. Yet the comparison extends beyond oil: chavismo’s political economy resembles Gómez’s in three recurring ways: monopoly rents, opaque bargains with capital, and repression that doubles as a system of extraction.

Scholars of early twentieth-century Venezuela have shown that corruption and the privatization of public office of the Gómez era functioned as governing tools that helped finance coercion, reward loyalists, and develop a powerful and centralized state. Gómez assembled a ruling coalition by binding regional powerbrokers and emerging civilian interests to state-sanctioned rents, especially through monopolies granted under the dictator’s shadow. The arrangement remains familiar to Venezuelans who have watched chavismo merge political loyalty, access to state resources, and personal enrichment into a single logic of rule. Those mechanisms are easiest to see in the political economy of monopoly, contracts, and prisons.

Public office as private business

First, monopoly rents have flourished under authoritarian rule. Under Hugo Chávez, the progressive erosion of checks and balances, and the hollowing out of democratic constraints, helped reconstitute a patrimonial logic of governance. Discretionary access to state resources became a core currency of political loyalty. Over time, the government entrusted senior military officers with the “management” of strategic sectors and state enterprises, creating incentives in which institutional loyalty and personal stake became difficult to disentangle. Alongside these appointments, the state’s dense architecture of controls and bureaucratic choke points created new opportunities to extract rents, shifting costs onto ordinary Venezuelans while protecting insiders. A similar political logic constructed power in Venezuela more than a century ago.

Gómez consolidated his ruling coalition through a tacit understanding: public office could be treated as private business, so long as loyalty held and order endured. One reliable stream of income that lubricated those clientelistic networks came from the cattle business. Beginning early in the regime, the autocrat and his circle leveraged control over cattle supply and slaughtering channels, backed by selective taxation and regulatory privilege, to squeeze competitors and reward allies. Another, more explicitly fiscal mechanism, was tax farming. The state granted private individuals the right to collect specific federal taxes, liquor being a prominent case, in exchange for a fixed payment to the treasury, leaving the tax farmer free to pocket the surplus. Many of the habits we now associate with the petrostate were already baked into everyday monopolies on beef and booze. Oil did not invent rent-seeking; it amplified it, turning familiar practices of privileged access into vastly more lucrative rents.

Delcy’s CPPs transfer operational and investment burdens to private actors, while the state retains political control. These deals have created a new class of intermediaries whose profitability depends less on technical competence than on privileged access to decision-makers.

If the military profited from monopolies in agriculture and cattle ranching, oil gave Gómez a broader instrument: it allowed him to co-opt civilian elites who had long bristled at Andean hegemony. Beyond the autocrat’s immediate family, the most visible beneficiaries of the concession trade were lawyers, engineers, bankers, and other members of the professional classes who monetized access, paperwork, and proximity to power in the new petroleum economy.

A comparable dynamic has surfaced amid PDVSA’s collapse. As the government ignored the current hydrocarbons framework, “productive participation contracts” (CPPs) emerged as a salient workaround. These arrangements effectively transfer operational and investment burdens to private actors, while the state retains political control. Investigative outlets have traced how these opaque deals created a new class of intermediaries whose profitability depends less on technical competence than on privileged access to decision-makers. The Anti-Blockade Law, in turn, has provided the legal umbrella for confidentiality, shielding contract terms from public scrutiny in the name of national security and sanctions evasion. 

This pattern is not an accidental echo of the 1920s concession era: the bargain with foreign capital then was not merely economic, but political and deliberately opaque. And when monopolies and privileged access harden into a system, those who cannot buy their way around it are left to absorb the costs; those who challenge it often face a harsher penalty than economic hardship, imprisonment. 

Extractivist fear

La Rotunda became a landmark of political oppression under Gómez. In its cells, political prisoners endured systematic torture and humiliation, and the regime’s agents turned captivity into a market through constant extortion for money, food, and favors. Many detainees suffered forced labor so that the infrastructure they built (roads and highways), and that the dictatorship showcased as “modernization,” often bore the hidden imprint of coerced bodies. 

That same logic is painfully recognizable today for families with relatives held at El Helicoide and other detention centers. Relatives bring medicines, food, and basic supplies only to face a system in which guards and intermediaries can confiscate, withhold, or demand payments simply to deliver necessities, or even to confirm that a detainee is still there. Imprisonment becomes not only repression, but another revenue stream: a mechanism of extraction layered onto fear.

If the Gómez precedent teaches anything, it is that once an authoritarian equilibrium is broken, restoring the old order is far harder than improvising a new one.

These parallels go a long way toward explaining why both systems proved so resilient, able to ride out internal shocks by combining repression with co-optation, and by making access to rents the glue of elite cohesion. Important differences remain, however. 

The dawn versus the sunset of democracy

Gómez ruled over a country still shaped by civil war legacies and weak national institutions. Part of his historical significance lies in how his dictatorship centralized coercion, built a state apparatus, and disciplined regional caudillos, an infrastructure that later governments could eventually open. Democracy did not arrive automatically, but the post-1935 succession did produce a cautious opening under presidents Eleazar López Contreras and Isaías Medina Angarita as the political opposition pressed for change. 

Chavismo, by contrast, emerged through elections. It initially spoke the language of participation and inclusion, yet over time it systematically hollowed out checks and balances and concentrated authority in ways that destroyed institutional autonomy. In any case, neither model was indefinitely sustainable. Both eventually confronted moments of succession, and the question shifted from endurance to what, exactly, would replace them.

In both transitions, it was not ordinary domestic pressure that structurally broke the authoritarian bargain, but a decisive external shock. Gómez weathered conspiracies, incursions, and waves of dissent; in the end, only death removed him. For chavismo, the US extraction of Maduro abruptly altered the balance of power inside the ruling coalition, fracturing the status quo among factions and forcing them to operate under Washington’s shadow for the foreseeable future.

After 1935, López Contreras and Medina Angarita moved quickly to neutralize the most predatory residues of Gomecismo, including the family clique. They steered the system gradually toward institutional consolidation and political opening. Echoes of that succession moment now hover over Venezuelan politics. 

It is too soon to tell where this transition leads, who will define its project, or what counter-moves it will invite. If the Gómez precedent teaches anything, it is that once an authoritarian equilibrium is broken, restoring the old order is far harder than improvising a new one. Whether that improvisation produces a democratic opening, or a reconstituted chavismo capable of surviving even where Gomecismo could not, remains the central question.

Published on
28/01/2026 – 12:54 GMT+1

French firms Danone and Nestlé saw a continued plunge in their share prices on Wednesday after a safety crisis involving baby formula.

At around midday in Europe, Danone shares were down 0.48%, while Nestlé shares slipped 0.33%.

A number of national authorities have issued their own warnings after an initial recall announcement from Danone last Friday.

The French firm said it was pulling “a very limited number of specific batches” of baby formula from the market, linked to fears that they could be contaminated with a dangerous toxin. Cereulide, the substance in question, can cause nausea and vomiting.

The recall came after Nestlé, one of Danone’s competitors, announced earlier in January that it would be pulling specific batches of its infant formula from shelves.

This global action followed a smaller recall in December, when cereulide was first found in a Nestlé factory in Nunspeet, the Netherlands.

Analysts estimate that the recall could cost Nestlé over €1bn, although the firm has said that it does not forecast a significant financial hit. Even so, the company will be working to improve its public image and quell doubts over product safety.

The contaminations detected by the companies have all been traced to a single Chinese supplier of arachidonic acid oil, a critical ingredient in premium infant formulas.

Private firm Lactalis has also been affected, along with smaller firms like Vitagermine and Hochdorf Swiss Nutrition.

The French authorities are currently investigating the deaths of two babies reported to have consumed Nestlé infant formula affected by the recalls due to cereulide contamination. So far, no causal link has been established.

“We are following developments with due attention and remain fully available to the authorities, cooperating with complete transparency,” said a Nestlé spokesperson last week.

Infant formula accounts for about 21% of Danone’s group revenue, according to Bernstein analysts. For Nestlé, the category likely represents around 5%.

In its recall statement, Danone stressed that it “never compromises on food safety”, adding that its priority “is to ensure that parents and healthcare professionals can continue to place their trust in the safety and quality of our infant formula products”.

Apologising for the recall, Nestlé said that the measure was “in line with… strict product quality and safety protocols”.

Former European Central Bank president Mario Draghi will attend an informal meeting of European Union leaders at the invitation of European Council President António Costa, who is looking to accelerate the implementation of his competitiveness report.

The retreat will take place on 12 February and will focus on boosting the European economy. Former Italian Prime Minister Enrico Letta will also participate in the gathering.

Draghi and Letta penned two influential reports on the EU single market and competitiveness in 2024.

In an interview with Euronews from New Delhi, where the EU signed a major trade deal with India, Costa said the retreat will serve to kickstart a cross-institutional debate on how to strengthen the European economy and implement their reform agenda.

“I invited Mario Draghi and Enrico Letta to join us as we take stock of what we’ve done but also look at what we need to deliver,” Costa said.

“We need to create renewed momentum and give a new impetus” to their call for reforms.

“I expect leaders to give clear political guidance to the Commission and the Council as they did last year on defence and security,” he added. “This time, for the single market.”

Costa has held a series of informal meetings bringing together the 27 leaders to brainstorm without the formalities of a European summit, which usually sees a stricter agenda and looks for compromise to deliver unanimous conclusions.

The retreat format, he argues, allows for more open discussions. Last year, leaders met alongside NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte and UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer to discuss European security and defence. By inviting Draghi and Letta, Costa hopes to reinstate momentum around their recommendations published in 2024.

Last year, the European Commission’s efforts focused on reducing red tape and cutting bureaucracy pegged to excessive EU regulation. While pushing for simplification of existing rules, analysts suggest the executive is not doing enough to push forward actual reforms in line with the recommendations of the two reports.

A report by the European Policy Innovation Council published in September last year suggested that only 11% of the recommendations listed in the Draghi report had been implemented in its first year even as the Commission referred to it as its economic compass.

Draghi’s attendance could serve to sharpen minds as the former ECB president is highly influential in diplomatic circles, the European capitals and the EU institutions where his speeches are closely monitored.

Draghi has repeatedly called for the bloc to work as a true union and called for a “pragmatic federalist” approach in a changing world.

Draghi has also expressed support for joint borrowing by EU member states to finance large projects of common interest such as security and defense, and called for the integration of the European capital markets to attract and scale up investments.

Watch the full interview with Council President António Costa on The Europe Conversation on Euronews on 28 January.

Not even a month in since the Trump administration captured Nicolás Maduro and the left-wing, Bolivarian regime led by Delcy Rodríguez has been “extremely cooperative.” “Thus far,” the White House said, she has “met all of the demands and requests of the United States”— around favoring American oil companies and investment, stopping narco-trafficking, and severing subordinance to extra-hemispheric rivals.

“Thus far” being the operative word. While in the immediate aftermath she appears to have stabilized the regime while cooperating with Trump, over the medium to long-term, Rodríguez’s attempt to satisfy US demands will likely require her to modify the very structures and processes—i.e., the mechanisms—that have underpinned the regime’s internal cohesion and stability for over two decades. 

Delcy, indeed, is in a quagmire.

Alas, that Delcy’s regime has remained stable is unsurprising. The Venezuelan regime has historically turned threatening crises—from mass protests, an unprecedented humanitarian crisis, and economic sanctions to a parallel government recognized by over 50 nations—into recurrent opportunities for consolidation. These survival mechanisms rely on loyalty coerced from civilians and engineered among military and political elites by weaponizing access to dwindling economic rents—from oil, as well as agriculture and minerals, illicit networks, and dependence on China, Russia, and Iran. The scale of this systemic pillaging is vast: since the Chávez era only, at least $300 billion have been diverted to fuel these survival mechanisms.

On the other hand, these are the mechanisms that the Trump administration expects to be overhauled or abolished. While these structures and processes were originally established by the regime, for the regime, the post-Maduro reality is that Rodríguez must now modify them with the US, for the US.

Rodríguez must also redirect scarce resources from pillaging into investments in ruined public infrastructure (especially roads, highways, freeways) and even in basic services like water or domestic gas.

Hence, Delcy’s quagmire. Reforming these mechanisms enough to satisfy the economic and security interests of a forceful (and eager) US administration risks, for regime elites, severing their access to rents that engineer their loyalty. Yet, mere superficial reforms risk Delcy’s fate with her new patron. Trump himself made it clear: “All political and military figures in Venezuela should understand what happened to Maduro can happen to them, and it will happen to them if they aren’t just, fair, even to their people.” 

Take for instance Trump’s demand that Venezuela grants privileged access to US oil companies and allows the US to have control over allocation from the financial proceedings. For Rodríguez to fully meet this, it will likely require much more than a mere reform of the Hydrocarbons Law. It necessitates the regulation, hiring, mobilization, and investment of resources to rebuild a decades-neglected, decimated national electricity grid, with 75% of Venezuelans suffering daily outages. Furthermore, Rodríguez must also redirect scarce resources from pillaging into investments in ruined public infrastructure (especially roads, highways, freeways) and even in basic services like water—to which only 36% of Venezuelans have daily access—or domestic gas, where over 70% receive it once every three months! And, on top of this, there is a Frankenstein-type financial system that has also presented opportunities for graft and provides all but predictability.

Washington’s expectation that scarce resources be directed toward restoring infrastructure and basic services while overhauling structural financial distortions to ensure US firms operate safely and profitably will strongly constrain Rodríguez’s ability to allow her inner circle to siphon these limited rents. Rodríguez will likely have to interfere with the very mechanisms of survival that have kept the elite unified: to satisfy Trump jeopardizes internal unity; to preserve internal unity risks facing the fate of Maduro.

During a recent visit to Caracas, CIA Director John Ratcliffe demanded Rodríguez to ensure Venezuela is no longer a “safe haven for America’s adversaries, especially narco-traffickers.” But this requires eliminating the shadow economies that have largely sustained the regime. As oil output collapsed by about 90%, it has been demonstrated that the regime has pivoted to illicit enterprises—along with the regime’s acquiescence to criminal groups in their territory. Illegal mining and drug trafficking, for instance, have reportedly accounted for over a quarter of Venezuela’s economy.

The Trump administration’s eagerness (or impatience) over reforms in Venezuela, plus its immense leverage and willingness to exercise it, may eventually make it realize the need for a swift and credible timeline for re-institutionalization and electoral reform.

Furthermore, China has become the regime’s primary economic patron, absorbing sanctioned crude. With the US interdicting shadow-fleet vessels in the Caribbean and demanding a severance of ties with Beijing, regime insiders—particularly the military, which controls critical pillars of domestic oil production and gasoline distribution—now face unprecedented structural strain. The security apparatus is similarly entangled with Russia, a partner that occupied key strategic voids left by the US and provided the military with hardware and gray market financial networks. These networks will not disappear overnight. Trump’s demand for a strong severance from illicit and foreign ties will likely be a turbulent process.

Complying too strongly with Trump will likely require Rodríguez to cut off many of the elites—and their related structures—that, by enriching the regime, have averted threatening crises for over 20 years. Complying too little with Trump to avoid overhauling internal-regime mechanisms, however, risks the ire of a Trump administration that has staked significant political capital on Venezuela’s transformation, especially in a critical election year.

Will the regime, as María Corina Machado suggested, “be forced to dismantle itself”? While not ensuring democratization, altering survival mechanisms to avoid the fate of Maduro could open junctures towards political liberalization. Conversely, prioritizing elite loyalty and existing mechanisms of enrichment over US expectations of reform and improvement risks unilateral dislodgment. While neither path guarantees democracy in the short term, the Trump administration’s eagerness (or impatience) over reforms in Venezuela, plus its immense leverage and willingness to exercise it, may eventually make it realize the need for a swifter and credible timeline for re-institutionalization and electoral reform.

Amidst this uncertainty, rather than a narrative of Delcy’s uncontested longevity, the politics of post-Maduro Venezuela suggests that the possibility of critical junctures favoring a transition toward democracy remains, today, more resonant than ever.

After months of intense negotiations, the European Commission concluded on Tuesday a free-trade deal with India which sharply reduces tariffs on EU products from cars to wine as the world looks for alternative markets following President Donald Trump’s tariff hit.

The announcement was made during a high-level visit by European authorities including Commission President Ursula von der Leyen. Both countries hailed a “new chapter in strategic relations” as the two looks for alternatives to the US market.

India is currently facing tariffs of 50% from the Trump administration, which has severely dented its exports. After sealing the Mercosur deal with Latin American countries earlier this month, the EU has said it aims to speed up its trade agenda with new partners.

“We did it – we delivered the mother of all deals,” von der Leyen said after the deal was announced. “This is the tale of two giants who choose partnership in a true win-win fashion. A strong message that cooperation is the best answer to global challenges.”

Talks went down to the wire with negotiators meeting over the weekend and in the early hours of Monday. The deal says it will bolster the “untapped” potential of their combined markets but did not include politically sensitive sectors such as agriculture.

The EU’s powerful trade chief Maroš Šefčovič, who in charge of negotiating on behalf of the 27 EU member states, said Brussels aims for a fast implementation by 2027.

In an interview with Euronews from Delhi after the deal was announced, Šefčovič said the India deal showcases the EU’s new approach when it comes to trade: more pragmatic on deliverables, rather than getting stuck on political red lines.

“We resumed negotiations with a new philosophy, being very clear in saying: if this is sensitive for you, let’s not touch it,” Šefčovič told Euronews, describing the strategy as a gamechanger.

A win for European exports looking to tap Indian market

Under the agreement, the EU aims to double goods exports to India by 2032 by cutting tariffs on approximately 96% of EU exports to the country, saving around €4 billion a year in duties. At its full potential, the deal creates a market of 2 billion people.

Europe’s carmakers emerge as beneficiaries, with Indian customs duties gradually reduced from 110% to 10% under a quota system. Tariffs in sectors including machinery, chemicals and pharmaceuticals will also be almost entirely eliminated.

Wine and spirits, key exports for countries like France, Italy and Spain, will see duties reduced from 150% to around 20 to 30%. Olive oil duties will be cut to zero from 40%.

After years of tensions with EU farmers, the Commission said sensitive agricultural products had been excluded from the agreement, leaving out beef, chicken, rice and sugar.

When it comes to India, the agreement keeps trade terms on dairy and grain untouched in line with the demands of the Indian authorities, which saw it as a red line.

The Commission, which negotiated the deal on behalf of the EU’s 27 member states, said it included a dedicated sustainable development chapter “which enhances environmental protection and addresses climate change.”

The agreement does not cover geographical indications, another contentious area for negotiators, which will be addressed in a separate deal aimed at protecting EU products from imitation on the Indian market.

Deal cut under pressure from Trump’s tariffs

The timing of the deal is important as the two sides look to de-risk their economies from the threat of Trump’s tariffs.

The EU saw tariffs triple to 15% last year under a contentious deal and India is currently operating under a 50% tariff regime from Washington.

The Trump administration slapped an additional 25% duty on India last year as punishment for buying Russian oil, which India has defended citing a need for cheap energy to power a country of 1.4 billion people.

Talks between the EU and India first began in 2007 but quickly ran into hurdles.

Negotiations were relaunched in 2022 and talks intensified last year as the two sought to cushion the impact of Trump’s return to the White House.

After the deal was signed during a two-day trip on Tuesday, in which the chiefs of the Commission and the European Council were guest of honour, the EU said the deal showcases that “rules-based cooperation” remains the preferred path for the bloc – and a growing number of partners from Latin America to India.

Before the deal can be implemented, the European Council and the European Parliament will have to ratify it, which can become an arduous process.

The Commission hopes to begin implementing the agreement from January 2027.

This story has been updated with comments by Commissioner Šefčovic to Euronews. Watch online and on television.

The release of Rafael Tudares, son-in-law of president-elect Edmundo González Urrutia, should not be read as an act of goodwill or as evidence of political normalization. It tells us something else. It tells us that the Venezuelan regime is operating under constraints it does not fully control anymore.

Political prisoners were never hidden, and they were never quiet. Everyone knew they existed, and everyone knew what they were for. For years, they generated exactly what the regime wanted, instilled fear, and discouraged people from testing the limits. That logic held, especially after the astronomical repression that followed July 28, when the government made a point of showing that even the smallest act of dissent, printing T-shirts, organizing vigils, speaking too loudly, would be punished.

What has changed is not the visibility of repression, but its effectiveness. For much of the last decade, political imprisonment functioned as a kind of currency. Detainees were bargaining chips, reminders that the state answered to no one, signals that consequences were final. That system depended on a relatively closed circuit of authority. Decisions were made internally, enforced vertically, and rarely explained. As long as that circuit held, repression worked not because it was subtle, but because it was definitive. Detention meant disappearance, uncertainty stretched over months or years. Tudares’ year-long disappearance is a good example. It produced exactly the reaction the regime expected, a broad recalculation of risk, fewer protests, more caution.

After Maduro’s removal, that circuit did not disappear, but became weaker. The regime did not stop repressing. It still , still intimidates, still punishes, more than 700 political prisoners remain unjustly detained. But it no longer does so from a position of uncontested control. It no longer acts as if it answers only to itself. Increasingly, it has to answer outwardly, and upward.

This is where Donald Trump enters the picture. Whatever one thinks of the arrangement taking shape, Caracas no longer governs in isolation. Trump’s own allies, many of them already uneasy about leaving figures like Delcy Rodríguez and Diosdado Cabello in positions of power, have grown increasingly uncomfortable with a slow, opaque process in which hundreds of political prisoners remain behind bars. In that context, prolonged detention no longer signals strength. It starts to look like defiance without cover. The White House at some point will wonder when do Venezuela’s political prisoners begin to look like Trump’s political prisoners?

That shift matters at home as well. Fear hasn’t disappeared, but it no longer dominates everything. Students are back in the streets, political figures are reemerging from hiding. Even the so-called colaboracionistas seem to be reassessing how much silence is worth. The question is no longer whether repression is real, but whether it’s still decisive.

Tudares’ release wasn’t the regime executing a plan. It was a reaction, in a context where the regime seems to have lost some control over political timing. More revealing still, it was a reaction through intermediaries, not institutions.

The speed and manner of Tudares release make this hard to miss. What followed the surge of public scrutiny around figures like former Fedecámaras president Ricardo Cusanno and Caracas Archbishop Raúl Biord was not a drawn-out negotiation or a carefully managed announcement. It was fast, happened within hours, in the middle of the night, and outside of formal institutions, and perhaps, more strikingly, it came with no explanation. That sequence matters. It suggests the system did not need time to think. It needed a release valve. That reaction was triggered when Mariana González de Tudares published an explosive statement pointing to several actors allegedly involved in the release of political detainees after the 2024 post-electoral crackdown.

Midnight decisions, diplomatic handoffs, releases carried out quietly and offstage are rarely signs of confidence. They are about containment. This was not the regime executing a plan. It was a reaction, in a context where the regime seems to have lost some control over political timing. More revealing still, it was a reaction through intermediaries, not institutions. Tudares was not released publicly from a detention center. No senior official stood next to him. No one wanted to own the decision.

That does not mean the regime suddenly became fragmented, as it was always dispersed. Different security bodies and political actors have long controlled different sets of prisoners. That dispersion is one reason releases have historically been slow and uneven, with individual detainees effectively tied to specific figures. What makes this episode different is that someone gave in quickly, and did so without wanting to be seen doing it.

This was not an assertion of authority, the decision was fast, and the execution was evasive. It reads more like damage control. A concession made quietly, designed to minimize visibility and avoid setting a precedent in daylight. The release of Rafael Tudares looks less like sovereignty and more like containment, a move taken not because it fits a strategy, but because delay had become riskier than action.

The regime’s weakest points are not at its core, but at its edges, among the intermediaries who must explain, manage, and deflect on its behalf.

What this reveals is not confusion about who holds power, but clarity about where pressure works. The regime did not need agreement on principle. It needed someone to absorb the cost, quickly, and without fanfare. That is the behavior of a system that understands its own exposure and is governing less through displays of strength and more through tactical retreats.

For the opposition, this matters. It shows that the regime is more exposed to public pressure than it has been in years, not because it has lost the capacity to repress, but because it has lost its monopoly over timing, narrative, and accountability. As explored in “María Corina vs. the Realpolitik of Trump and Delcy,” Machado is operating in a narrower, more brittle political landscape. The Tudares episode suggests that this landscape does not absorb pressure well. When scrutiny becomes public, targeted, and reputational, outcomes can be forced quickly and awkwardly.

Political prisoners have become a liability not because they are invisible, but because they are contested. They no longer function as a one-way threat. They sit at the intersection of domestic mobilization, international pressure, and reputational risk. The regime still represses. What it no longer fully controls are the consequences.

This does not mean collapse is imminent, but signals something more practical. The regime’s weakest points are not at its core, but at its edges, among the intermediaries who must explain, manage, and deflect on its behalf. When those actors are exposed, when delay becomes more costly than action, results can come fast. The release of Rafael Tudares should not be mistaken for closure. It shows that the fear-based equilibrium that sustained the system for years is wearing down, and that public pressure, when aimed correctly, now moves faster than authority. That is not a victory, but it is useful knowledge.

Politics can move too fast for few and too slow for many at the same time. Today is a perfect example of that. The brand-new Rodríguez regime seems quick at aligning with the Trump agenda, executing the sort of authoritarian due diligence needed to attract foreign investment and make things favorable for looming corporations. Yesterday they used a completely dominated National Assembly (one that neither admitted anything close to a debate nor disclosed the texts through official channels) to advance three legal initiatives related to doing business in the country. The non-chavista, systemic opposition group there led by Henrique Capriles and Stalin González decided not to take a stance. The parliamentary agenda included amending a massive energy-sector statute that could change the game for those aiming to become main oil-industry players.

But now it’s January 23^rd. The most significant date for the country’s democracy legacy tastes bittersweet, carrying hints of frustration and even despair, but also of opportunity. The collapse of the Marcos Pérez Jiménez regime exactly 68 years ago represents the complete opposite of the type of political shifts we’ve witnessed since January 3, 2026. In 1958, after some turbulent weeks marked by protests and a failed military uprising, mid-level Army officers rose to topple the Pérez Jiménez regime and dismantle its entire repressive structure. The dictator and his infamous repressor-in-chief managed to escape the country unharmed (though the story doesn’t end there for the former). And in stark contrast to what many of our neighbors were enduring, the armed forces became a key actor in promoting a civilian-led democratic order that began to take shape in the following months. Wolfgang Larrazábal, the military figure who oversaw that process, became an icon of Venezuela’s democratic transition.

What we have after January 3rd, however, is the exact opposite. An external force removed the dictator and his wife, not a group of generals acting in the people’s interest. The shambolic state of the military was laid bare before the eyes of the world, a defenseless, even invisible, force that couldn’t even scratch a group of American helicopters. Crucial difference: the rest of the regime remains in place, including the entire repressive apparatus. Notwithstanding, the ruling Rodríguez faction announced the start of a “significant” release process of detainees days after that “Deus ex machina” moment that raised hopes of a Caribbean-style glasnost. Two weeks later, about 15% of political prisoners have walked out. The regime has conducted this in a way that prevents celebration: dropping prisoners in specific spots of the city rather than right in front of the gates, sending them straight to airports (which happened to Rocío San Miguel), and gaslighting the public about the actual figure. Regime officials including Jorge Rodríguez and Tarek William Saab repeat they’ve released 400 political prisoners. Rights watchdog Foro Penal has so far verified 155.

In Caracas, they were careful not to disturb traffic or make chants that would upset the police or chavismo itself, such as calling for presidential elections, Delcy’s removal, or explicitly invoking the July 28 mandate.

In defiance, families of political prisoners have been camping outside prisons and torture centers for two consecutive weeks. Two leading Catholic priests have stood alongside them, which is particularly meaningful following a recent accusation against the Archbishop of Caracas of being too close to the regime. Two veteran anti-chavista politicians, Andrés Velásquez and Alfredo Ramos, have shown their faces after going into hiding since August 2024, when Maduro & Co. went after every real and made-up opponent following the July 28 presidential election. Today, campuses in at least seven universities across the country (ULA, LUZ, and USB, to name a few) woke up with banners calling for the freedom of all dissidents and the closure of prisons for regime opponents. 

Universidad Central student leaders organized a protest next to the capital’s main highway to honor today’s anniversary. Akin demonstrations took place in other parts of the country, such as Zulia, Mérida and Barinas. In Caracas, they were careful not to disturb traffic or make chants that would upset the police or chavismo itself, such as calling for presidential elections, Delcy’s removal, or explicitly invoking the July 28 mandate. Activists from PROVEA, trade union representatives and other human rights groups joined the students (who, by the way, have been quite active supporting families of detainees outside El Helicoide and the National Police jail in Boleíta). They released a joint statement. This is the core message:

We affirm that the “new political moment,” based on “reconciliation and reunion,” announced by the administration now headed by Delcy Rodríguez, will not be viable as long as urgent public demands remain unaddressed.

We believe that the most urgent demand, one that unites society as a whole, is the full, unconditional, and immediate release of all those who have been arbitrarily deprived of their liberty or subjected to judicial proceedings for political reasons, and who remain unjustly held in prisons and police stations across the country.

This won’t be enough to shake the nascent Rodríguez-led dictablanda and force comprehensive concessions. Sustaining such pressure requires time and careful coordination with party structures and the wider Venezuelan population. But it is, without a doubt, a more than decent way to push for political freedoms on this weird, confusing anniversary. The sort of freedoms that other foreign stakeholders have been, and will continue to be, slower to demand.

The BoJ held off on hiking its headline rate on Friday as expected, following signs of panic in Japan’s bond market this week.

Just last month, the Japanese central bank raised its key interest rate to 0.75%, a 30-year high, in a bid to normalise fiscal policy after a long era of near-zero or negative rates.

In its latest update, the BoJ also lifted its GDP growth expectations for 2025 to 0.9% and to 1% for this fiscal year. Both figures represent an increase from the 0.7% forecasted previously.

The decision to hold allows the Japanese economy to digest the December hike but it does not fully address the fear that spooked global markets this week, namely surrounding Japan’s national debt and political instability.

This Tuesday, Japanese bonds suffered a historic rout, with the yield on the 40-year note surpassing the 4% mark for the first time since 2007. The 30-year bond yield also rose almost 30 basis points during the session, to roughly 3.9%, the highest level on record.

The catalyst for the sell-off was Prime Minister Takaichi’s announcement on Monday that snap elections will be held on 8 February, and the pledge to suspend the 8% consumption tax on food for two years, in an attempt to woo voters.

The annual revenue from the tax is roughly ¥5tr (€31.5bn), and with markets already concerned about Japan’s debt-to-GDP ratio hovering near 240%, the highest in the developed world, the prospect of an unfunded tax cut has become controversial.

Prime Minister Takaichi also unveiled a spending package of roughly ¥21.5tr (€115bn), further fuelling criticism of fiscal recklessness.

These domestic policy decisions have drawn uncomfortable comparisons to Liz Truss’s disastrous “mini-budget” of unfunded tax cuts in the UK, back in 2022.

Politics vs. Economics

Sanae Takaichi took office in October 2025 becoming Japan’s first female prime minister, following the resignation of her predecessor, Shigeru Ishiba, after a series of political setbacks.

Takaichi’s party, the ruling right-wing Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), lost its majority in the upper house. The long-standing coalition with the centrist party, Komeito, which withdrew over a political funds scandal, collapsed.

Nonetheless, the LDP formed a new coalition with the centre-right Japan Innovation Party (JIP), and under Takaichi’s leadership, it has held a slim majority and enjoyed high approval ratings, particularly among young voters.

The ruling coalition now aims to leverage Prime Minister Takaichi’s popularity in the snap elections to lock in a fresh mandate.

During her speech this Monday, Takaichi proclaimed: “I am putting my position as prime minister on the line. I want the people themselves to decide whether they are willing to entrust Takaichi Sanae with the task of running our nation.”

Takaichi’s opponents merged at the start of this year, forming the Centrist Reform Alliance (CRA), and are trying to capitalise on voter anger over the cost of living.

The proposed food tax cut was Takaichi’s ace in the hole, a direct transfer to households struggling with inflation. Instead, it has so-far backfired, driving up mortgage rates and corporate borrowing costs via the bonds.

The “Abenomics” ideology, the loose fiscal and monetary policy championed by Takaichi’s mentor, the late Shinzo Abe, supports the narrative that an inflationary spike may be brewing. The CPI rate has already hovered above the central bank’s 2% target for four years.

Even so, volatility seemed to have somewhat subsided on Thursday as government officials talked down the panic, with Chief Cabinet Secretary Minoru Kihara insisting the administration is “keeping a close eye” on bond movements.

However, the yield on the 10-year government bond is still at its highest level since 1999, at around 2.25%.

Impact on global markets

Fears of a ballooning deficit, just as the BoJ is tapering its decades-long bond-buying programme, have severe implications for global markets.

For many years, investors worldwide have enjoyed the so-called “yen carry trade”. This is a strategy of borrowing money in Japanese yen, which typically has very low interest rates, to invest in assets denominated in currencies with higher returns, like US dollars.

Investors profit from the difference, or the “spread”, between the low interest they pay on the loan and the high interest they earn on the investment.

Conversely, if the Japanese yen suddenly strengthens or the BoJ raises interest rates, the cost of repaying the loan spikes, often forcing investors to panic-sell their assets to cover their debts.

The rout that Japanese bonds experienced on Tuesday also forced a violent repricing in other markets throughout the following days, causing US Treasury yields to jump.

The US is particularly affected as Japan is the largest foreign holder of their debt, with over $1tr (€850bn) in US Treasuries.

Speaking at the World Economic Forum in Davos this Wednesday, US Secretary of the Treasury, Scott Bessent, stated: “It’s very difficult to disaggregate the market reaction from what’s going on endogenously in Japan.”

Secretary Bessent also completely dismissed the idea that the “Greenland crisis” was responsible for any volatility in US markets, emphasising that the primary pressure remains the fiscal shift currently unfolding in Tokyo.

Prime Minister Takaichi’s policies involve massive government spending to stimulate economic growth which fans inflationary risks. This could ultimately mean further hikes from the BoJ and more unwinding of the yen carry trade.

It is too early to say that things are settling at The Branch, the hostile takeover by Corporate left some ripples and management is scrambling to adapt. For the moment, we can say that the status remains “fluid.” We’re not at a place yet where the branch manager can fire the annoying janitor that’s been around for decades and seems to have more power than he should, but at least she’ll be able to change that old pot that makes cockroach tasting coffee for a proper Nespresso.

That’s where we are. Por ahora, Venezuela seems to be stuck in a corporate takeover by the US government. And like any corporate takeover it’s natural that the target’s management will be jittery, but at the same time trying to stick to their old ways, the “this is how we do things here” attitude that lasts until Corporate reminds them that “how we do things here” is what landed them in this position in the first place. Regardless, management has to calm the staff, who are hoping that things will remain somewhat the same, although deep down they know they’re not.

I’m not going to hold the analogy throughout the whole piece, but rather ramble in and out of it as it comes. The point is that the Venezuela strategy is currently detached from a democratic logic (por ahora), and it may be more oriented to results on a spreadsheet. I’m not saying this just because Donald Trump is a businessman and the first thing they’re tackling is the oil business while he talks about how profitable this whole thing will be, but also because they are approaching the situation just how you would approach the expansion of a business. And branch, dare we say, not subsidiary, since there’s little to no independence on how this business is being run.

Delcy Rodríguez and her brother Jorge, have been keeping the house together for a while. Delcy has been the executive part of The Branch since before it was a branch and Jorge a key strategist and negotiator for the organization. We’ve said before that even when the regime has had the dictatorial tumbao since forever, and that democratic institutions where thrown out the window many years ago, they did have a certain degree of separation of powers caused by the death of Hugo Chávez (who did concentrate all powers). Bout of course, not separation of powers how it was taught in political institutions classes (executive, legislative and judicial), but more into chavista factions (executive, Diosdado, and the military). That separation of powers maintained a certain balance, if you saw it from a chavista logic. The executive, under Maduro and Cilia Flores, not only concentrated the powers of the presidency but a big chunk of the judiciary (in Cilia particularly). Delcy Rodríguez’s role in this structure was, actually, executing almost all of Maduro’s functions and many other roles delegated in her (in a way, Delcy was the Rubio to Maduro’s Trump).

The military in the post Chávez era has always been its own mega bureaucratic, too big and too divided to move behemoth, focused on wealth and politics, that has the legendary power to change things in the country at a snap of its fingers, but that won’t do it because it is too big and too divided.

For a long time, Diosdado stood his ground in the legislature because of his influence over the party. He was able to hold leverage over the “executive” by blocking certain legal initiatives, like one touted reform of the Hydrocarbons Law that had been requested for ages by Russia, China, Iran, and the United States. Then, after the 2024 presidential elections, when this structure started losing balance, Diosdado accumulated more power when he became Venezuela’s top cop—in command of a force that probably has more experience and is more combat ready than the military.

After Maduro’s extraction, this balance broke. Chavista politics and separation of powers out the window. The military sent to the barracks and the Rodríguez siblings forced to play nice with Diosdado (and viceversa) por ahora. The chain of command disolved into a single line between two speakerphones. Tyranny.

Welcome to the corporate world.

While adjusting to this new reality hasn’t been easy, The Branch has been understanding some basic rules based on efficiency and celerity required by Corporate. In just a week, after Exxon CEO Darren Woods voiced concerns over the legality of PDVSA’s current contractual framework, the lack of resources to protect investment in Venezuela, and the complications to carry out regular business activities, the National Assembly presided by Jorge Rodríguez “discussed” for immediate approval in first discussion three pieces of legislation provided by the branch manager (Jorge’s sister, it’s a family business!): the hydrocarbons law, which doesn’t only legalize the aforesaid contractual framework but also adds alternatives to solve disputes beyond Venezuela’s courts; a Socioeconomic Rights Law; and an anti red tape law. This first law packet should be fully approved and entering into force within the week. Easy peasy.

Mr. Trump, please tell Mr. Woods that his request should be fulfilled shortly.
Best,
Delcy R.

Also, part of the funds from the first batch of oil sold via the US has already been injected into the financial system, partially stabilizing the foreign exchange market and liberating crude storage space. Delcy also started making some cabinet changes, nothing major yet, she’s still keeping the people she trusts close, and giving some space to Cabello, but she got rid of Alex Saab—it’s not hard to please the boss when you get to do something you really wanted to do in the first place.

Staffing has been at the core of this takeover. A Reuters headline yesterday read: Trump considers role in Venezuela for Machado. While we don’t see yet that Corporate will Machado to supervise Delcy, we’re at such a dry spot right now, that Trump decides whether the most popular politician in Venezuela can participate or not in… What? Can it even be called a transition? What is it? We argued in a different post that beyond the ruckus that Machado’s involvement may cause in Venezuela in this moment, Trump is just happy on how Delcy has been delivering. His weekly reviews all include gold stars. Versus what could mean having to deal with a leader “constrained and empowered by a democratic mandate” and an actual obligation to the Venezuelan people.

That’s why the easy part is starting with the business stuff. Getting to the core of the organization is the hard part. We’ve seen many comments on how the first thing that has to be done in order to actually entice investors to come into Venezuela is to work on its democratization and fixing its institutions (not entirely true). We can discuss about democratic principles all you want, but it’s just not going to happen that way, even when it would be the most desirable option. It’s just not the path we’re on. Corporate decided to “fix” the business first, because they want to see profit, they want to see that it’s worth it. And perhaps, by working their way from the outer shells of the business, eventually, maybe, getting to the core of the issue: the need for re institutionalization and getting democratically elected leaders to replace the branch management. While there’s a very slim chance of this happening, democracy would have to seep through a crack of the business shell into the core, it may be the only chance. Not that the takeover method was correct or ethical, but no one else would’ve been crazy enough to put in the investment. And again, it’s the reality that we’re in and that’s what we have to deal with.

Timing, not time, is one of the big challenges here. Corporate needs to keep oversight and control for just the right amount of time, taking into account that there’s a big chance to get pushback from the branch management when trying to impose a new system, if they take too long, let’s say… November, the chance may be lost and branch management will sit comfortably and sooner than later go back to their old ways. Just look at how they’ve been handling the “good faith” gesture of political prisoner release. Yes, they’ve been complying, but there’s been resistance, lies and treachery.

And then there’s the issue of Cabello himself. It’s hard to see a democratization process with him, his special forces, and his colectivos around. We don’t see it. Big oil doesn’t see it. The region doesn’t see it. And perhaps, at some point, Corporate won’t see it too.

Sadly, at present, bringing Venezuela back to democracy requires more than the will of Venezuelans. Of course that part is key, but right now we mostly depend on the good heart of men in a board room looking at excel sheets. Or just wait for the numbers on those excel sheets to spell “democracy.”

In a country like Venezuela, the Hydrocarbons Law is the legal instrument that defines the rights and obligations of the State and the private parties, pursuant to the constitutional principles. There are two things to have in mind on the Venezuelan Constitution of 1999: oil reservoirs are the sole property of Venezuela and Petróleos de Venezuela, S.A. (PDVSA) cannot be transferred or sold to private parties. 

The Hydrocarbons Law of 2001 (amended in 2006) allows private participation in exploration and production activities through joint ventures (empresas mixtas).  These joint ventures are under the operational control of the Venezuelan State (i.e. PDVSA) and are considered state-owned entities in accordance with the Public Administration Law of 2014. The Hydrocarbons Law limits private participation in exploration, production, and commercialization activities of liquid hydrocarbons and associated natural gas. Other regulations enacted sometime after restrict private participation in a number of other issues, such as the performance of certain services agreements.

Right at this moment there seems to be an initial consensus among the political and economic actors on the need to have a renovated legal framework for the oil industry, for the purpose of enabling new investments and boosting oil production. Because when things are not working well in a strategic and major industry, some legislative action is desired.

Delcy Rodríguez, who took over after the extraction of Nicolás Maduro, mentioned the matter in her address to the National Assembly on January 15^th, announcing partial reforms in the oil sector. At the time of writing, we’ve not had the possibility to review the draft bill. As a result, we haven’t figured out yet where this reform is heading. But we do know what Rodríguez said in her speech, calling for the incorporation of the productive models outlined in the Anti-Blockade Law of 2020, thus, allowing investment flows into new fields. The reform of the Hydrocarbons Law is now considered a priority in the extensive 2026 legislative agenda of the National Assembly, and no one is talking about the National Assembly giving an enabling law to the acting President to grant her the legal power to pass legislation.

In the event that private investors own a majority of the stake in the joint ventures under the new Hydrocarbons Law, the end-result would be that they will no longer be considered Venezuelan state-owned entities.

The Anti-Blockade Law was conceived as a response to international economic sanctions against Venezuela. Without a doubt it has promoted private investments in the country. But for various reasons, this statute has not attracted enough interest from investors. Some argue that its provisions are in collision with the ones set forth under the Hydrocarbons Law. It is also feasible that if the economic sanctions are lifted in the future, the Anti-Blockade Law will lose significance.

Key questions

So, in our view, there are key questions for the new hydrocarbons legislation. First, what will happen to existing joint ventures between PDVSA and Eni, Chevron, CNPC, Repsol, Maurel & Prom, and Roszarubezhneft—among other current players? We don’t know for sure if private investors will be allowed to become majority shareholders in these existing joint ventures or whether there will be a different contractual scheme.

We also ignore what will happen to new joint ventures in terms of private investors’ participation, or about the existing contracts on production, signed in recent years between PDVSA and private investors in accordance with the Anti-Blockade Law. Such contracts might be converted to production sharing contracts, services at risk contracts or other types of contracts. Private investors or joint ventures might be entitled to commercialize liquid hydrocarbons, associated natural gas, and/or by-products.

Another aspect to consider in new legislation is oil royalties, how flexible they will become, with distinctions between greenfield and brownfield projects. Will the government’s take be reduced, and the income tax lowered with the amendment of the Income Tax Law as well? Will there be any tax breaks for new investments?

In the event that private investors own a majority of the stake in the joint ventures under the new Hydrocarbons Law, the end-result would be that they will no longer be considered Venezuelan state-owned entities, as such entities are defined under the Venezuelan legal framework. Furthermore, in this case such joint ventures will not be subject to the 50% OFAC rule, which predicates that any entity directly or indirectly owned 50% or more by PDVSA is automatically deemed sanctioned and blocked, even if not explicitly listed by OFAC, prohibiting US persons from any transactions with that entity.

The weight of experience

The truth is that Venezuela has an extensive, complex, and valuable experience in dealing with oil projects and private investments for more than a century. We have to learn from past lessons, if history has any relevance at all. 

Three milestones should be mentioned in Venezuelan oil history: the Hydrocarbons Law of 1943; the Oil Nationalization Law of 1975; and the migration process to mixed joint ventures of 2006-2007, supported by the Hydrocarbons Law still in force. 

In 1943 occurred the convalidation of concessions defects and the conversion of all existing concessions to new ones under a new single legal framework. In 1975 the foreign oil companies were given the opportunity to sign technical assistance agreements and commercialization contracts with the recently created PDVSA, following their compensation. In 2006-2007 the private companies with operating services agreements, strategic associations, and profit sharing agreements were given the chance to migrate to joint ventures as minority shareholders. 

There will be better chances to attract these investments if the reform provides fiscal benefits, regulatory advantages, and favorable contractual schemes.

In all those processes, with greater or lesser success, the intended purpose of Venezuela was focused on keeping the relationships with the oil companies, with all the pros and cons that those decisions entail. 

Today there is little certainty about which legal instrument will be sanctioned by the National Assembly, and which private companies will decide to invest in the country. The only certainty is that the reform will not hinder private investments, it will promote them. In this sense, the companies already in the country have an advantage over those that are beginning to put their technical and legal teams together to make their first evaluations and studies. 

In order to have massive investments in the oil sector, an important reform of the Hydrocarbons Law is definitely the first step going forward. There will be better chances to attract these investments if the reform provides fiscal benefits, regulatory advantages, and favorable contractual schemes. Nonetheless, any reduction of the government stake to attract investments will require the modification of the Income Tax Law as well. 
The technological, human, and financial resources for the industry will hopefully come in great numbers and capabilities to Venezuela following the enactment of new legislation. The economic and legal challenges for the Venezuelan oil industry are huge and must be treated with a sense of urgency for the benefit of the country and its people.

Global stock markets rallied on Thursday as US President Donald Trump rolled back tariff threats linked to Greenland.

Attending the World Economic Forum’s annual summit in Davos, Switzerland, Trump said he had agreed the “framework of a future deal” on Greenland after meeting with Mark Rutte, NATO’s secretary-general.

The president claimed he would not use military force to seize the island from Denmark, and also dropped plans to impose extra tariffs on European countries from 1 February.

Details of the future deal are scarce, although investors were visibly cheered by the de-escalation.

Just after the opening bell in Europe, France’s CAC 40 traded 1.31% higher, Germany’s DAX saw a 1.23% lift, Spain’s IBEX 35 was up 1.05%, while Italy’s FTSE MIB rose 0.97%. The UK’s FTSE 100 traded 0.76% higher, while the wider STOXX Europe 600 was up 1.15%.

A global boost as tensions ease

The optimism in Europe mirrored movements in Asian markets, with Japan’s Nikkei 225 rising 1.73%, China’s SSE Composite Index up 0.14%, and Australia’s S&P/ASX 200 up 0.75%. Hong Kong’s Hang Seng drifted less than 0.1% higher, while South Korea’s Kospi saw a 0.87% boost, breaching the 5,000 mark for the first time and closing at a record 4,952.53.

Over the last 12 months, the Kospi has emerged as the world’s best-performing index on the back of the AI boom, with South Korea home to pivotal chipmakers Samsung Electronics and SK Hynix.

Semiconductor firms, which are already highly valued, saw their stocks climb even further after Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang spoke at Davos on Wednesday. Huang claimed that the AI transition would require trillions of dollars of investment, easing fears around overvaluations — at least for now.

The Philadelphia Semiconductor Index, which tracks 30 US semiconductor companies, closed 3.18% higher on Wednesday.

Looking at broader US sentiment, S&P 500 futures traded 0.40% higher, Dow Jones futures were up 0.20%, while Nasdaq futures rose 0.64%.

Gold and US Treasuries

As EU-US tensions eased, demand for safe haven assets slid.

As of around 9:30am CET, gold traded 0.19% lower at $4,828.30 per ounce — following a record high of over $4,800 reached on Wednesday.

The metal’s popularity is linked to its liquidity and status as an inflation hedge, but a weaker dollar and falling US interest rates have also boosted bullion.

When the greenback falls in value, this makes gold comparatively cheaper for foreign buyers and therefore drives up demand and prices. Low US interest rates also increase gold’s appeal compared to interest-bearing assets, as investors aren’t significantly losing out if they choose the metal over assets like bonds.

The Dollar Index, which tracks the greenback against six other currencies, traded less than 0.1% higher at 98.81 on Thursday.

Yields on long-term US bonds also slid after a spike earlier in the week, linked to Greenland tensions and threats to Federal Reserve independence as Trump prepares to name a new chair. Another reason for the earlier yield spike is volatility in Japan, with some investors moving money away from US assets into higher-yielding Japanese debt.

In the days ahead, markets will be watching for more details on Trump’s Greenland deal, as Denmark has stressed that the island’s sovereignty is not up for negotiation. An emergency summit between EU leaders will take place in Brussels on Thursday to address the US threat.